None of that excuses what happened.
Nothing does.
Nikki did not deserve to die.
Nothing she said or did could make her death acceptable.
And nothing about Andy’s struggles gives him an excuse for what happened.
I need that to be absolutely clear.
But after the tragedy, people began talking as though they knew everything.
They didn’t.
I didn’t know everything either.
Nobody outside those final moments can honestly claim to know exactly what was happening inside both of their minds.
And then there was something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
After everything had already started unfolding, Andy came to my house.
I didn’t know what had happened yet.
But the moment I saw him, I knew something was wrong.
He looked broken.
Not angry.
Not like himself.
Just broken.
I looked at him and felt a fear I couldn’t explain.
We spoke.
Then he left.
I didn’t know that it would be the last time I ever saw him.
I didn’t know I was looking at the father of my children for the final time.
His daughter got to see him that day too.
She didn’t know it was goodbye.
Neither did I.
